It's a shirtless, one-eyed, tattooed shield dwarf whose left arm is a crossbow.
"I am Noska Ur’gray. I am here to deliver a message. Do not seek the Stone. Do not seek the treasure. The Eye Below is watching. He will see. He will know. He will send me again, if you do not obey. I have spoken."
Gregor stares at him nonplussed for a moment, then says "So will you be staying for breakfast or no? Only, I think I might have made too much bacon and could use some help getting rid of it before it goes to waste."
Gregor stares at him nonplussed for a moment, then says "So will you be staying for breakfast or no? Only, I think I might have made too much bacon and could use some help getting rid of it before it goes to waste."
Snagging some bacon and a cup of coffee for himself, Falshen moves to seat himself within easy earshot of the bewitched Dwarf and settles in to listen.
An effete, well-dressed man stands at the door. Behind him stands a young female tiefling scribe, half-moon spectacles perched at the end of her nose, a small notebook in hand.
"Greetings," says the man in an Illuskan accent, "I am Hammond Kraddoc, of the Vintners’, Distillers’, and Brewers’ Guild. My faithful factotum, Jinny." He gestures to the scribe. "I understand that you wish to stock this establishment with the finest ales, wines, and spirits. I am here to inspect the premises, and to assess your storage and service capacities. May I come in?"
"Our new friend is correct! Please come in and join us, if time is not pressing! Here you go, master Ur'gray. Coffee, black... no potatoes... (whispered) ah, it slipped my mind, but could you please provide me with a list of passwords, where they are to be used, and their effect?"
"Hmmm, your hospitable offer is generous, but Jinny and I have, uh, already breakfasted."
Kraddoc steps inside, followed by the scribe.
"Now, which of you gentlemen could show me around your cellars and behind the bar, that I might assess your, hem, capabilities?"
Around a mouthful of bacon, Noska Ur’gray says,
"Password. Eh. Password next tenday is...Sylgar." He burps. "Pet fish," he adds enigmatically. He slurps down a mug of coffee and holds it out for more.
From the ceiling above comes a hefty thump, and the sound of Yagra swearing floridly - she has apparently fallen out of bed.
Irma comes downstairs after dropping off the sleeping Half Orc and joins his companions.
Ian also rejoins his companions downstairs.
It's a shirtless, one-eyed, tattooed shield dwarf whose left arm is a crossbow.
"I am Noska Ur’gray. I am here to deliver a message. Do not seek the Stone. Do not seek the treasure. The Eye Below is watching. He will see. He will know. He will send me again, if you do not obey. I have spoken."
Gregor stares at him nonplussed for a moment, then says "So will you be staying for breakfast or no? Only, I think I might have made too much bacon and could use some help getting rid of it before it goes to waste."
Make a Persuasion check.
19
The dwarf hesitates, then,
"No," he says brusquely. "I go now. I am a servant of the Eye Below. You will heed my words."
His fingers clench.
"But...I will take bacon."
His fingers unclench, and he holds out his gloved hand.
Gregor wordlessly hands the dwarf a fist full of bacon.
Ian, from the back, pulls out his Lute and begins to strum it, he casts Suggestion, while saying,
“Come stay for breakfast, some drafts, and some time after. Spill your thoughts on our questions and let’s have a good time.”
(OOC: DC 15 Wisdom Save)
Wisdom Save: 14
Noska Ur’gray steps inside, rashers in hand.
"I will stay for breakfast. We will have a good time."
"Excellent! Tea? Coffee? Who is your direct superior and where are they? Yes or no on potatoes?"
Snagging some bacon and a cup of coffee for himself, Falshen moves to seat himself within easy earshot of the bewitched Dwarf and settles in to listen.
The dwarf sits, chewing bacon. Renaer regards him with an eyebrow cocked. Volo selects a fresh piece of parchment and leans forward, listening.
"Coffee. Black. Ahmaergo, majordomo of Lord Xanathar, the Eye Below, who dwells beneath the sewers of the Castle Ward. No potatoes."
From above, the saw of Yagra's snoring cuts through the air.
There's a knock at the door.
With a look of hopeful anticipation, Falshen stands, strides to the door, and opens it wide.
An effete, well-dressed man stands at the door. Behind him stands a young female tiefling scribe, half-moon spectacles perched at the end of her nose, a small notebook in hand.
"Greetings," says the man in an Illuskan accent, "I am Hammond Kraddoc, of the Vintners’, Distillers’, and Brewers’ Guild. My faithful factotum, Jinny." He gestures to the scribe. "I understand that you wish to stock this establishment with the finest ales, wines, and spirits. I am here to inspect the premises, and to assess your storage and service capacities. May I come in?"
From the table, Noska Ur’gray says,
"We are having a good time. There is bacon."
"Our new friend is correct! Please come in and join us, if time is not pressing! Here you go, master Ur'gray. Coffee, black... no potatoes... (whispered) ah, it slipped my mind, but could you please provide me with a list of passwords, where they are to be used, and their effect?"
"Hmmm, your hospitable offer is generous, but Jinny and I have, uh, already breakfasted."
Kraddoc steps inside, followed by the scribe.
"Now, which of you gentlemen could show me around your cellars and behind the bar, that I might assess your, hem, capabilities?"
Around a mouthful of bacon, Noska Ur’gray says,
"Password. Eh. Password next tenday is...Sylgar." He burps. "Pet fish," he adds enigmatically. He slurps down a mug of coffee and holds it out for more.
From the ceiling above comes a hefty thump, and the sound of Yagra swearing floridly - she has apparently fallen out of bed.
Irma glances at the ceiling and says, " I've done more than my share for that guest"